When the Voiceless Speak
by Umbra
Summary: This takes place during and (soon) after the game. It also takes insight into the main characters. This is my first in fanfiction, please be kind to read and review! This IS of the shounen-ai genre, developing into yaoi, so please take that into considera
1. When the Voiceless Speak

When the Voiceless Speak

When the Voiceless Speak

BY UMBRA

"Awoken from the shadowed pond,

As golden petals kiss

the epitaph of your seal.

Voiceless secrets cry

against broken mirrors

Silver wings embrace

the remaints of your soul.

Rise above the world,

And learn to fly…"

~Umbra

_"Ashley" paled a voice against the roar of Dark in the boy's ears._

_The small frame was walking away, yet as it did so, the frame grew into that of a man's and then a warrior's. The movements were so familiar, yet never seen. _

_Even so, the boy knew that he didn't want this person to leave, and so he called out again, "Ashley, don't leave me… please." /Somehow, I need you…/_

_Tears fell from reddened eyes, their ebony light only emitting loneliness before rippling the glass pool below the boy's feet._

_"Ashley…" fell upon deaf ears, and the darkness swallowed the person, leaving only several ripples as a sign of 'his' exit. The same person the boy named 'Sydney' had dreamed about and prayed for relentlessly for as long as he could See was now leaving him._

The Dark blew against the boy's robes, and whispered through his hair, leaving a forbidden scent of magick against his skin.

"Sydney."

When footsteps in the Waking became apparent, the Dark blew itself from his closed eyes, and the sapphires that opened lazily surveyed the city of Lea Monde from the balcony's edge. Moments before, he had watched the Riskbreaker pass through the massive wooden doors to another test of fate.

Recognizing the familiar footfalls on the stone floor, a smile broke for his friend before the noble, yet bored voice spoke, "It's only you, Hardin." 

The slight monotone was interrupted, "I do not know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, Sydney. I bear news of your orders." After a quick survey of Sydney's poise, the calm warrior frowned slightly at the heavy aire of Dark around his friend; it seemed to keep the slight mage at a distance and his soul painfully vagrant. He cursed himself for all the fighting and sorcerer skills he possessed, yet none of them could lift some of the burden of the Rood. 

Intrigued by mild interest, Hardin's last word was punctuated by a swirling of cape before the cult leader addressed one of his most devout, "Then speak, friend. Of what news does your tongue carry?"

"The boy and Inquisitor are in my custody… I am surprised she hasn't made my job harder, after all… she does carry the ability to 'See'."

"And?" the voice slowly picking up interest.

"Surely you have seen this, Sydney? But, never the matter. It will make your 'game' more interesting in the long run." /_So will this 'Riskbreaker' that Sydney claims as his 'chosen'…/_

"So it will. What of our Dark friends?"

"The rest of the sigils are in place. Yet, as you may well know, it seems dear Guildenstern finds ways to meet his goals within our Lea Monde labyrinth without passing through any of them. And the Riskbreaker… The VKP has chosen well" Hardin finished, more or less stating the obvious.

At this, Sydney released a slight smile before he returned his view to over the balcony. /_I'm sorry, Riskbreaker for every drop of blood you shed in this 'game' of mine. The Hunter must fight the forest to catch his prey. I never said it was an easy quest. But then again, neither is mine…these 'divine rats' seem to consider my hide quite a valuable bounty as well. I promise, though… your blood will be tributed. Once all of this is over. I promise._ / 

"You have feelings for him, don't you?" A protest was at hand, before it was silenced, "Do not try to lie that it is just because he is your chosen. Our next Messiah." 

Releasing a dark chuckle, "Zounds! And what is it that gives you that impression? What of that? I am not a pale fool that you can read so readily," the young mage practically spat.

"Be calm, Sydney," the taller man apologized, "You know I have the power to See as well… however, that is not what tells me; I see the way you look at him. As if-"

"Be silent!" Sydney yelled with a slight edge of hysteria. Hardin's words cut off by the ice command. Regaining his composure, "The business is not of yours."

/_But it is, Sydney_. /

"Forgive me, Sydney. I have o'ershot myself." The cultist leader began to feel unnerved by the assessing stare Hardin gave him. It was not filled with anger nor coldness, but of caring, one that searched and would find any strand of misguided emotion, occasionally known and called sadness. A gesture of caring one would find in an older sibling. For that, Sydney placed the strongest barriers on his poise, but it had the opposite effect. Instead of leaving to sort out his feelings with the Dark, Hardin closed the gap between them and enclosed Sydney in a tight embrace.

The struggle Sydney put up to this unaccustomed display of friendship made Hardin wince in more than one place. "Take your hands off me!" One of Sydney's hands escaped, shoving sharply at Hardin's ribs before Hardin grabbed it.

"Sydney!"

Hardin blessed whatever god had made the youth pause before he spat the answer, "What?!"

"Calm down before you wake the dead!"

"I'm not some child! Unhand me!"

"Lie to me, Sydney; but do not do yourself the disservice of lying to your heart." Shocked for more than once during their 'conversation', Sydney looked at him as if he just spoke Kildean backwards.

"I say this as a friend," Hardin continued, giving one last embrace that was not returned, but at least, Hardin sighed, with any blows. The swordsman released him and began to turn. As he walked away, Sydney could feel the recession of his aura. Opening an ornately carved door, Hardin bid the exacerbated****mage goodbye, "Even though yours is immortal, it is only one life, Sydney. Do not allow yours to bewray regrets, I beg of you." /_When all of this is over, take care of him, Riskbreaker._ /

The solid shutting of the door and alone, the Dark fled to him as a mother would to a hurt child when the sorcerer allowed his head to collapse in his arms. Thoughts that he would never have thought broke over his conscience's dam, flooding and drowning the confused child inside, the part of his soul that knew what he wanted, but couldn't have. /_It's going to be a long operation…Right, Riskbreaker? /_

Surrendering the Waking, they fell upon like rain upon his heart, none could pierce it, and Sydney would not allow himself to cry; after all, a stone heart was the very vice that he had struggled with. 

End of Chapter 1 Part 1 

Notes of the Author: 

[1] Impressive, from the viewpoint that I've overcome procrastination, my first debut in the fanfiction universe. I hope this piece will be accepted well. Though it is my first in fanfiction, I have had other pieces in poetry placed on the web. To name a few, "Lamentation of a Soldier", "Watch the Rain", and soon "Songs of Reflection." If wanted, they can be found on Fanfiction.net, as this piece will show up on. 

[2] Comments and Criticism are always, always welcome. I can be contacted @ **Shizuka_no_Kaze@juno.com**. However, please make it constructive. If you flame, it will be used as comic relief for tired nerves, before being thrown away. I, as everyone who writes can improve upon their skills, and the best form comes from their readers.

[3] I know, one is expected to make Author's Notes relatively short, but I'm one to run in circles before getting to the point. I do need some feedback on this though, 1) I will be converting the spoken text to Olde English as it is seen in the English version of Vagrant Story. I'm considering thoughts too… suggestions?

2) Should I place the introductory poem in each section, each chapter, or leave it be at the beginning only? I'm not sure if I have the creativity to create one for each chapter, though it would be nice.

[4] Ah, my vices; I over-use descriptives, there's a whisper of a plot, I love to use passive voice (ah, rebellion against staunch teachings), and it's hard for me to incorporate humour, so I prefer angsty writing styles. However, I do intend for this piece to lighten up once I get Mullenkamp to kick Sydney for drowning in his sorrow. Heh, couldn't leave her out. Truly, though, I don't believe Vagrant Story fanfiction could hold itself without the little-less-than-sane cult goddess throwing in her opinions. I love the way Lunar has portrayed Mullenkamp; I hope that I will do half the job she has. Oh, and I ramble on…

[5] Incase no one noticed, this will evolve into (if not already) a shounen-ai genre; I'm giving my warning. I won't listen if someone complains Ashley and Sydney don't belong together; there's so much chemistry between them that spontaneous combustion is quite a possibility. If you're still complaining, then you weren't paying attention _at all_ during the game.

[6] Even I, the author wants to tell him, "It was just a hug, Sydney! He wasn't trying to suffocate you or anything…"

Disclaimer: Yes, I put this at the end, so as not to ruin the mood for others. These characters, and part of the background story (I do admit to changing sequences and stuff) belong to the almighty Square; I am just temporarily borrowing them to do cruel things to their minds. Don't blame me if I get something wrong. Feel free to e-mail me at the address above to correct me. For those as frivolous as to threaten with a lawsuit, don't bother; it would be a waste of your time. I have money and a great lawyer who will happily turn the case around to charge you with harassment, thereby leaving you the one broke. Other than that, please have a nice day. (mutters something about such base individuals)


	2. When the Voiceless Speak Memories of Blo...

Konnichiwa, minna-san

Konnichiwa, minna-san. Thank you for reading this! Pleased be warned, however that I have very concrete reasons for rating this R, however to list exactly what that is will give away a critical point in the story. Don't worry, it shouldn't offend. No yaoi, no lemon, sorry guys; in later chapters, though. This takes place before the game, Vagrant Story, and though it contains no solid connection to my first chapter, it is needed for later chapters. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think by e-mailing me at: Shizuka_no_Kaze @juno.com. Oh, I almost forgot: // mean thoughts. //// mean thoughts from the past. It's less confusing that way. It's not in Olde English for the same reason as it is not during the Vagrant Story era & they don't speak that way where they live. ^_^ Best reason I can give. On to the story!: 

Memories of Blood

BY Naoki Takiyama

When the Voiceless Speak

~Prologue~

Many, many years ago… 

The sun setting upon the young city of Lea Monde only lightened the atmosphere of its inhabitants. The festive colors seen every night for the past week danced in the air as imported silk, lanterns and jewelry which only paled in comparison to the citizen's broad smiles and the children's jubilant laughter.

Tonight the town celebrated the last festival tribute for Lea Monde's completion before the ascension of their God.

From the center in the cathedral, a figure outline was silhouetted by the dancing fire, smiling benevolently at her creation. /It's been not so long…and yet those beginning memories seem so distant/ Releasing a sigh that clouded the gem faceted wine glass, /It's finished…my dream…/ A collection of feelings, /finally./

The beaded doorway rattled and soon slippers were approaching. "Good afternoon, Mullenkamp. Will you be joining the festivities tonight?"

Giggling slightly, Mullenkamp waved the hand that held the goblet across her extensive view, light glinting on the gold, "I've danced for the past five days in the town square. A priestess does get tired," smiling back at her friend, "Isn't it beautiful?" breath in amused awe, "I never believed I would be able to finish it, in this lifetime."

The purple robed figure nodded respectfully and companionably placed a hand on Mullenkamp's shoulder. Accepting the gesture, Mullenkamp leaned inward and placed her head on her friend's shoulder. They stood like that for a while until the priestess couldn't take the weight of her thoughts in solitary. "I don't want to leave it… I feel like I can't…It can't leave me…I can't bear the thought," the sentence trailed off to a whisper, "I want to watch and nurture it as a mother." Looking almost longingly at the one at her side, guiltily she let her sight drop to the carved marble under her feet. Raising her head to stand independently, sashes rustling, Mullenkamp spoke almost regally, "But the Dark has already chosen you, though, has it not?" 

Not really a question as a cool dictation of fact, Mullenkamp didn't care when the other failed to show any signs of remorse except for the necessary sympathy, "I will see that Lea Monde is taken care of, love."

A glint of annoyance flickered into Mullenkamp's dulled eyes before resuming her shine of a smile, not really comforted. Faked cheerfulness laced at the edges of her voice, "I know you will." And diminished her goblet to dust…powers that would be stripped tomorrow by the Dark. Even discovered in writing upon scrolls, the "Dark" had been cantankerous toward her innate magick acquired through ancient training of priesthood. It had preferred a plainer mortal that opposed no threat to its pure power…

Attention snapped back to the present by the soft voice, Mullenkamp looked up to her companion which entertained deep thought, looking past the festivities, past the sky, into the star and moon, perhaps farther. "It is temperamental;" the conversation was laid delicately, "you know that first hand, Kilanea. It will not tolerate any opposing force once it is brought to the Waking. I don't want to put you in danger, yet at first I will be weak to the Dark's influence."

/You're worried it will hurt me./ Mullenkamp reflected in bemusement.

Turning to Mullenkamp, her gaze was drowned in mixed feelings of concern and worry. Searching the nonchalant face with the flickering light's help, she continued, "What will you do after I invoke the Dark, Kilanea? It will no longer hold you in respectable power…"

Smiling gently, before sweeping her gaze toward the celebrating crowd, Mullenkamp softly concluded the conservation, "It really is quite simple, Merlose…"

***

The city streets were bare, as the citizens were told by their Priestess to hide their eyes behind their doors; their God can blind while being revivified. The second reason was clearer and stirred less fear in the people: their Queen needed peace while she performed the rites.

The lavish room was bare; the marble echoed with stain glass the incantation of the world's Nemesis. The otherwise silence that filled the gaps between the whisperings seemed to suffocate all other forms of life. 

Stealth footfalls hesitated behind a Corinthian column, purpose held the poise, robes rustling to stillness as the intruding figure surveyed the entranced Queen.

The room was dark in the throes of shadows. Midnight had held its claim for longer than what seemed usual, and seemed to wrap in itself, holding its secrets from the common eye. It washed apprehension and hung it as mystery. Soon it blazed though, blinding the hiding figure momentarily and Merlose's words had fallen silent. 

The beam had softened as quickly as it surfaced to a glow, emanating from the Queen. 

//I will be its Child, Mullenkamp//

/She seems at peace, almost as if in a mother's womb/ suddenly a light shot out of Merlose, in silence, etching a pattern in the air at the cathedral's ceiling. /The Rood/

//What do you think?//

A smirk covered the figure's lips.

/Now! / Silver glinted in the perpetual quiet. Dodging from behind the pillar, running footsteps echoed toward the object of attention. A moment of hesitation, and the silver glinted once again in the tassels of ebony light that were surging through the chamber, before making no more reflections of mock. The plunge fit the surroundings perfectly; it was as if the action held the voiceless emotions screaming silently. 

Merlose's eyes flew open, making a slow trail to the sudden throbbing in her stomach. Scarlet trailed to the ground, pooling in graceful spots on the marble. 

Raising her head, the stricken Queen met with a cool façade. Ragged in voice, "Mullenkamp," the voice mingled with sobs, "A rune blade…Why?"

The Dark, infantile and vulnerable in the realm of the Waking, began a frenzied search for a new host. The waste of energy was unnecessary however, as it soon felt a spell weaving it to it's new vessel's soul.

"Because this city and title to this power are _mine_. I could not let anyone get in the way of that, even you." Mullenkamp icily remarked, ignoring Merlose's horrified expression."Accept your death gracefully. The Dark will send its regards." Bowing her head slightly, Mullenkamp shoved and threw her off the dagger, allowing the Queen to fall to the ground in an undignified heap. 

Mullenkamp was soon lurched forward as the Dark began to stream into her, the black ribbons melding with her being. Turning away from the sight of Merlose's heaving body, she ignored the tears searing down her face, intertwining with the splattered crimson. She instead focused on the embracement of the Dark. /You may have been its child, my dear Merlose, but I am not. It is mine, as is this city. / 

Mullenkamp had also ignored the other magickal energy that pulsed against her skin, the soft golden huge that luminated. However, her body did not and as she walked from the center of the cathedral, she convulsed and fell to the ground as she trembled with her mistake. 

/No!… I will not die… not now, not ever/

But the effort to stand was in vain. Tremors soon erupted from beneath the ground, shattering the stained glass and toppling the proud columns from their posture. 

The pandemonium was not hushed; citizens of Lea Monde heard one scream echo into the night as two forces fought with one another. Ever-conscious mothers covered their children's ears as the hugged close to their skirts, and fathers bent their heads to reassure.

The night's silence and the city's peace was forever murdered and bled like rain upon Lea Monde. And each tremor brought one more soul's murmuring prayer to their ancient god to protect their city from damnation. 

~Fins~

Notes of the author:

Oi! Tell me that itwasn't –that- horrible. After revising, it seemed better, but IMO it sucks…*mopes about* I've never been good at conveying action especially when thoughts are spilling to your pen too quickly. Ahh! *bangs head against desk* I wanted to write this though, I was seized by a great idea: this prologue, yet I dislike the way I portrayed it. It didn't have _any_ grace. I have been stuck on Chapter 1 Part 2 and it's been a month or so since I've posted, so I want to let people know that I'm alive. I guess it was a filler. But it _is _ critical to later chapters. I don't know how fast to move along the section that takes place during the game… It pales in creativity to what I want afterwards… but I dunno, two cute guys wandering around each other's paths inside an ancient city with possible…ah, sorry, could be fun though. ~_^

Explaining this chapter, Merlose being there _will _ make sense…, Mullenkamp killing her can make sense now. Just takes a bit o' thought and analysis of Mullenkamp. She didn't necessarily _care _ about the Dark (she already had magick). She cared about her city, as she said, as a mother. She never wanted to leave it, never wanted it to leave her (explains why everything that dies inside Lea Monde is condemned to stay there) and she saw that she could achieve that through immortality, how? by accepting the Dark. It also helps explain the tremors; two magickal forces fighting each other. It also explains why her mentality is a bit… off.However, don't yell at me for two reasons: 1) I love Mullenkamp, she's cool. I'm making a very becoming role for Mullenkamp around Ch. 2. ^_^ 2) As I haven't finished the game yet, if facts aren't in place, I couldn't wait that long. (It takes forever for me to gain the guts to fight each boss. Kali or whoever scared the crap out of me…-hey, you're looking at a person who used to be scared of playing Mario Bros for fear of being eaten by the Daddy Fish. @_@) Eheheh, in short, it's my story and I've had fun weaving together facts and theories with my imagination to create a rather elaborate stage….

But, I would like to say a very large thank you to EVERYONE that reviewed my last chapter. Without you, I would never have had the confidence or inspiration to continue my story. 

PS: for the suited menaces, same disclaimer applies. To see it go to the end of the When the Voiceless Speak Chapter 1: Section 1. I'm too tired to write it for you. I'll save you time though, go away. Other than that, hope you enjoyed my story! You had to have read it to be worried about a disclaimer. 


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